Beyond Repair
by Azaelia Gamgee-Took
Summary: Two people have been torn apart by the loss of the person they loved... The wound may be beyond repair.
1. Default Chapter

Harry Potter flipped onto his side, mostly just for a change of scenery; he had been laying in the dark in 12 Grimmauld Place, very much awake, for the past hour, staring at the exact same space of wall. His mind couldn't seem to settle… one minute it would be churning with so many thoughts his head would throb; the next it would be completely blank, empty. He shook his head slightly, so that his bangs fell in his eyes; this made him angry, and he roughly brushed them out of his face again. It took next to nothing to make him angry lately… Hearing a small yawn from Phineas Nigellus' empty portrait, he felt the sudden urge to pick up something heavy and heave it as hard as he could at the stupid portrait, but resisted, turning his thoughts instead, unwillingly, to the thing that had so haunted him for the past several days… Sirius' death.

What tormented him more than anything else, even his own utter stupidity up to that point, were the moments of and just before his death. It seemed to him that the whole terrible ordeal could have been avoided in so many different ways… if Sirius hadn't been duelling Bellatrix… if Sirius had been less cocky and more, well, serious… if Bellatrix had only missed him one more time… a very small, stubborn part of Harry even believed that if Lupin hadn't held him back, he, Harry, could've saved Sirius, he could've pulled him back from behind the veil… of course, general logic could tell him this wasn't true, there was no coming back from there. But then, how did he know? How could anyone possibly know whether or not Sirius could've reappeared from behind the veil?

They couldn't… and that was just it. Harry could see no way that Lupin, or anyone, could've known… His heart gave a small pang, as though vast, hollow space inside him where Sirius should have been was expanding a very little bit (he'd thought it impossible), and he flipped onto his back to stare at the ceiling. He knew it wasn't Lupin's fault. He didn't want to be angry with Lupin. But he couldn't help it… even being alone in the same house with him was disconcerting at the moment.

Harry had been unnecessarily cold with him, and a very small part of him felt sorry for it. He felt very faintly guilty, knowing he must have only been making Lupin feel worse the past few days. But it would be impossible for anyone to ever feel as horrible and miserable as Harry was feeling right now. And perhaps the worst part of the whole thing was that it seemed like he would always feel this way. 

Downstairs, Remus Lupin moved his head ever so slightly, the bones in his neck clicking, stiff from hours of no movement. The man sat with his back against the crumbling wall of a shadowed living room and had done the same for hours on end, having moved for nothing but the agonizing transformation he had had to face the night before, leaving the house and Harry to be looked after by other of the Order members. A dim, flickering ray of light from one of the only street lamps that still worked out on the muggle streets outside slivered over his pallid, thin face, illuminating dried blood across one cheek from a cut he had obtained while in his wolf form.

There were several more bite and scratch marks on his body than usual, mainly because he had managed to calm himself temporarily by focusing on the pain of them rather than everything else. He blamed himself. He was not certain why, but he did. Sirius had been all he had had. It would have been Sirius who would encourage him to eat, like he always had done. Another crack of bones could be heard as Remus' back arched, his face in his hands as he heard Sirius' voice in his head: "Come on, Moony, you're a stick. Eat something, or you'll end up like me" followed by that bark like laugh. A dry sob escaped his lips, a pained expression on his face. A voice in his head pulled him back to reality: "Harry." He could not let his dead friends' son see him like this; the boy needed all the support that he, Remus, had now lost.

With immense difficultly he got up, clutching and scratching at the wall for support as he grew dizzy; the result of his weak state. Slowly and unsteadily he made his way to an armchair, falling limply into it. A hand reached for the now stale loaf of bread he had left there the night before and he ate it hungrily, following it with a mouthful of an amber liquid that ran slightly over his chin. He leaned back, observing the grate of glowing ash. He had to stay strong for Harry, however overwhelming the pain may be.

After another half an hour, it became clear that Harry was going to get no sleep for the second night in a row. He dragged himself out of bed and made his way slowly downstairs, hoping Lupin would be asleep so Harry could avoid him... unfortunately, he was still awake. Harry ignored him and sat down next to the fire for a minute, but eventually snuck a glance at him, and gasped slightly in alarm. "Professor Lupin... what... are you...?" His insides gave another guilty squirm at the sight of his face.

Remus turned to Harry, only now fully aware that he had come into the room. His lips twitched faintly in what would have been a smile as he asked, with a hint of vague confusion mixed with the pain, "What...do you mean, Harry?" His eyes fell over the boy's alarmed face, taking in the now familiar image of a young James with deliberate mistakes, the stab of memory scraping at his heart as it usually did when he set eyes on Harry.

Harry continued to stare at Lupin for a minute, then realized that his mouth was hanging open and closed it abruptly. He averted his gaze to the wall opposite him instead. "I dunno... you just don't look very, er... well. Are you alright?" But what a stupid question... If he was feeling anything like Harry was, then of course he wasn't alright... glancing at him again, Harry noticed that he also looked much more thin and pale than usual.

Remus ran a slightly bony hand over his cheek and brought it down, looking at the flecks of blood with a look of vague surprise and amusement. After several moments he looked back at Harry, concealing his true feelings from view as he always had done as a child, and said slowly; "We have all suffered a great loss...very great," and turned to the fire yet again, taking up his wand in a shaking hand and setting the fire alight again.

Harry's stomach gave a lurch. Of course they'd 'suffered a great loss,' but he'd thought that Lupin at least would be a bit more sympathetic, and less like Dumbledore... he was tired of people being practical about it... but as he turned to say something in anger, something occurred to him as he looked at Lupin's face. They were more alike than he'd realized... Harry's parents had been Lupin's best friends, so they'd both lost them... and Sirius... Harry blinked rapidly several times, and after a few minutes, turned away from Lupin.

The werewolf spoke hoarsely to the sprouting flames, not looking at the boy; "I take it...You could not…sleep?" He glanced at the boy as he replied, "No, I couldn't... haven't been able to lately, actually..."

Remus bowed his head in an attempted nod and said in a soft tone; "No, I suppose not… neither have I." He was unsure why he was saying this to the boy, for he knew he had to give all of his support to him, be positive and, like the other handful of Order members and close friends, avoid the matter completely. Yet that was foolish: a direct insult to Sirius' memory, and as his sullen eyes met with Harry's momentarily, his lips twitched again in what would have been a smile; he seemed to know what the boy had been thinking. His eyes flickered back to the flames, his hands digging into the armchair's cloth, violently attempting to suppress the memories of his friends that unwillingly flashed before his eyes momentarily.

Harry had offered a very small smile as their eyes met, but stopped fairly quickly... it felt like his muscles were having to stretch awfully hard to do it, like he hadn't smiled in years... He stared into the fire for several minutes, his mind blank. Turning back to look at Lupin, he noticed that his eyes had a faraway look, as though Lupin was in another time, another place... and suddenly memories came rushing to Harry's mind that he would much rather have forgotten... A jet of red light; Sirius falling slowly through the curtain; Bellatrix's triumphant scream; to Harry's horror, he felt a hard lump rise painfully in his throat. He shifted his gaze to stare at the floor, trying hard to swallow.

Blurred sounds and images seemed to flare up in front of Remus: echoing laughter. The sly, mischievous grin Sirius' young face always seemed to have carried, a younger James smirking as he held a struggling, stolen snitch between his fingers, showing off to passing people. Both of them were gone. They had left him behind; both had left him to deal with all the problems and worry, like they had always done when they were back at school. His hand curled into a fist until his knuckles were white. He glared down at the flames dancing playfully in the grate below, his eyes somewhat bright as reality dawned on the werewolf yet again. He was being foolish and he knew it. It was selfish to blame it on them, for James and Sirius had hardly wanted to die. It all seemed so unreal…

Harry turned slightly in his chair to stare at Lupin some more, mostly to take his mind off of Sirius. He was slightly startled when he saw the look in Lupin's eyes, because he had a very strong feeling he'd seen it before, very recently... and then he realized where he'd seen it: staring out of the mirror at him... it was the look he'd had in his eyes for the past several days, when he'd been blaming Lupin for Sirius being gone... "I'm sorry," he muttered, staring at the floor once more, though he knew Lupin wouldn't know what he was talking about. "I am... I didn't mean to..."

Remus showed little sign of having heard Harry, always having been good at concealing fright or other weak feelings; he had, however, jumped when the boy spoke, almost having totally forgotten that Harry was there. He turned slowly to look at the boy, allowing his clenched hand to relax so as not to alarm the boy. His lips twitched ever so slightly into what might have been a calm smile as he croaked a reply in his hoarse tone: "What…do you mean, Harry?" His sullen, tired hazel eyes met again with the bright emerald ones across from him, as though already knowing what the boy had meant. A confused yet meaningful question ran through his mind: were he and the boy really that similar when it came to grieving over lost ones?

Harry stood up abruptly and began pacing the length of the room, idly running a hand through his hair. He continued to pace for several minutes, never taking his eyes of the floor, until at length he stopped, several feet from Lupin, and looked up at him, again noting how much older and more tired he looked than he remembered him being at school. "Look, I know these past few days I haven't been exactly… friendly to you. The thing is, er… you know I haven't been exactly happy, of course I've been feeling awful because of… well…" He cleared his throat hastily. "But the thing is, I've sort of been… blaming it on you." He couldn't look at Lupin anymore; he strode over to the window, leaning his arm on the cool glass pane and his forehead on his arm, then continued as if addressing the dark street outside. "I've been thinking, maybe if you hadn't held me back… maybe it would've been different… but I know it's not your fault. You didn't want this to happen any more than I did. And I shouldn't have been so cold and awful to you, you don't… deserve that…" His voice faltered-- he trailed off and continued to stare out the window. At length he began again, in a voice barely above a whisper. "I suppose I'm trying to say… I'm sorry, Remus." That surprised Harry… he had never addressed Lupin by his first name before. "Sir," he added quietly, not taking his eyes away from the empty street.


	2. Chapter 2

An odd flicker reflected in Lupin's eye as he listened to the boy. He only managed to soak in the meaning of various words; everything was still in a dull haze, but from what he heard he was able to draw out that Harry had blamed him for what had happened. Something stirred inside the werewolf, a sharp stab that wanted him to cry and let the feelings of grief and pain out. But he could not, not with Harry here, it would shatter the boy. His dull, shadowed eyes met with the boy's before he had turned to the window, speaking to the dim lit street in a little more than a hoarse whisper at first. "Harry...If I could change what happened...I would go to any lengths..." He paused, thinking it all over in his hazy, confused mind before continuing a little louder and steadier; "If I had not held you back the events that occurred would have been no different… I know it is difficult, Harry, but time will mend the pain…I'm sure of it." He knew this was not true, and although he had always been told that it was wrong to lie, he knew he needed to help to lift some of the weight off of the young boy's heart.

Harry, however, bit his lip and continued to stare out the window, gathering his thoughts and trying to keep his temper in check. How stupid did Remus think he was? He seemed to remember McGonagall telling him that Remus had thought he was smart, or good at something... where'd that gone? Finally, he turned to face Remus. "Sir... I understand you're trying to help me through this or something, and I do appreciate it. But I'm 15. I'll be 16 soon. I just lost my godfather, and as much as I hate to admit it, Dumbledore was right... he was like a father and brother to me. And he was your best friend. I think I deserve to know what you really think."

A dry sigh escaped the werewolf's lips. How could he be expected to explain things lightly or give fake advice? Harry was right on this, he deserved to know, yet it was hard, for Remus had never been one to express his feelings openly. "You wish to know how I feel, Harry?" He turned to face the spitting image of his childhood memories of James. How could the boy understand what he was going through? A shiver ran through the slim man's body at the bitter thought, beginning with a mumble. "Cold...and empty." He let a dry, unemotional chuckle escape him. "Much like the effect of a dementor...Ironically." He stopped, the slightly over- bright, hazel eyes boring into the boy momentarily before turning to the window again.

Harry let a frustrated sigh tumble from his lips. He cursed, then crossed angrily to a chair and sat down in it, then jumped up and started to say something, then changed his mind and sat again, trying to get a hold on the jumble of mixed emotions that were fighting to gain control. Breathing rather heavily, he glared across the room at Remus, who wasn't even looking at him. He didn't care. "How can you be so calm about all this? Sirius is dead, Remus!" He didn't bothering to keep his voice down; the whole world could listen to him for all he cared. "He's dead, he's gone, and he's not coming back! And I know you don't think I can understand what you're going through, but I can't see how you can think that! 'Cold and empty.' That's how you feel? Is that all?" He cursed again, but didn't stop staring at Remus, who still wouldn't look at him. "Listen, you're not the only one who cared about Sirius!" His voice had reached its full volume now, and his words tumbled out in a rush, as fast as he could think them. "If you knew what I was feeling right now, if you knew any single, small part of it, you might not just sit there, pretending you're unphased by all this, and not even do me the courtesy of looking at me or telling me what you really think!" Hot, angry tears were leaking out of his eyes now; he brushed them away abruptly. "There was a time I trusted you, even looked up to you. I don't know what happened to that Remus Lupin, but I haven't seen him recently, I know that much. Just… just, never mind, you obviously don't understand." He collapsed backwards into the chair and didn't bother to try to stop the tears that were coming now, so different from the past ones that had come from pure anger.

Each increased tone of Harry's voice seemed like a hard slap to the werewolf's face, each time sparking off a new wave of emotions. Anger; guilt; pain; shock. The trembling, bony hands that had lain calmly on the armrests had gradually become fists again, the knuckles white and his nail digging into his palm. Had he been respected by the boy? By the boy who thought he knew the ways of the world? His next thoughts escaped Remus before he could stop himself, the hazel eyes snapping quickly onto the boy, blazing with an odd amber-like light, his voice nothing less than a growl. "HOW-CAN-YOU-EVEN-TRY-TO-UNDERSTAND-ME!" He stopped abruptly, eyes wide in shock, chest heaving as he panted slightly. 

The boy's eyes widened slightly when Remus yelled at him, though he didn't know why it should surprise him. If Harry was going to yell, then Remus could certainly yell back. He merely listened as Remus continued, his anger and frustration building the whole time.

Lupin took a few deep breaths. No, this was not how he should handle things. He had to try and stay calmer. "I…am sorry, Harry…But what I am trying to say is…" He stopped, running a shaking hand through his rather thin, greying hair. "Alright. Enough excuses. If it is my true feelings you want to know then it is that what I will tell you." The werewolf's jaw clenched slightly, as though fighting to control something inside of him. "The reason I have to remain calm is that if I let my emotions run through me freely I would have long ago ripped apart everything and everyone I could get my hands on." He closed his eyes, the hands on the armrest now spread out and trembling. "As for…" He paused, trying to stop the quaver in his voice, having been able to let out only a weak 'S'. "I am fully…aware of what happened. And you cannot begin to imagine the pain…the so-" The man's body shuddered involuntarily, his hoarse voice somewhat thick "You…have…no idea." His eyes stung, but he had to hold it in. The shimmering hazel eyes now stared straight at the boy. "He was all I had left, Harry."

Harry really hadn't wanted to have it out with Lupin; he'd been perfectly willing to stop after his last outburst. But Remus had opened the door, and Harry was still mad as hell, so he walked right through it. At least he had his attention now. "He was the only thing you had?" He couldn't be sure at this point whether he was purely angry or if he was merely sad, miserable to the breaking point. Tears were still leaking out of his eyes; he didn't care. "That's why I wouldn't understand, because he was the only thing you had? So who've I got left, then?" His voice was still at its full height. "Ron and Hermione? Oh yeah, sure, they're great! They understand exactly what I'm going through! Only one thing wrong with that: they still have their whole families! I lost my Dad and Mum before I could remember one single, miniscule thing about them. I don't remember them at all, Remus! And then I had no one until I met Sirius! And then he…" He stopped to gather his thoughts… and breath. "He was my father, Remus, the only one I ever knew. He was the only one I could really talk to. I always felt like I could tell him what I thought, what I was feeling. And now he's gone. And no matter how many different ways I try, no matter how many foolish hopes I manage to dredge up, he can't come back, and I can't ever see him, speak to him, hear his voice again." He couldn't recall having gotten to his feet, but when he paused again, he was standing… He collapsed into the chair again, and when he continued, his voice was little more than a hoarse whisper, much like Lupin's. "Look, I understand that Sirius was your best friend. But… just think about it. I know you feel like you've lost everyone, the last one you had… but it didn't occur to you that I might be feeling the same way, did it?" He stopped, took a deep breath, and turned his gaze to the window again, his eyes still bright. 

The bony fingers dug into the wooden armchair as Remus fought to keep himself from lashing out, his eyes still unwillingly stinging. Why couldn't the boy understand? Why could he not see this properly? Taking a few breaths the werewolf locked his gaze with Harry's again, a stern, steely note in his voice; "You have to understand, Harry, that he was not only your loss. You are not the only one affected and you will learn, in time, that people show their feelings and emotions equally different." He slowly relaxed the grip on the chair and got up, clutching the chair for support, his eyes still fixed on the boy, tone still stern.

Now it was Harry's turn to keep his eyes averted. He locked his fingers together and stared at them, moving them only when he needed to blink.

"He was all I had, Harry. You forget that I have known… and… loved him more than a brother for…years. You forget that I have lost both your mother and father, along with Sirius. The only people who ever cared for me…" He paused, words failing him as his body shook uncontrollably. The werewolf sunk slowly back into the chair, face in his hands with elbows leaning on the armrest, his thin frame shuddering. The next few words escaped with stifled sobs, speaking more to himself than to the boy, momentarily having forgotten his presence. "They…are…gone. And I was not there to help them." 

When he looked up again, Remus had finished, and Harry wasn't crying anymore, though he felt no different. When he finally spoke, it was in the softest voice he'd used yet. "Alright. I understand what you're saying… I never said I didn't, by the way. But look here... I've heard you out. Sure, I've gotten in my share of yelling. But now, so've you. And I'm done yelling. Now... will you hear me out?" He sighed and turned his attention back to the window momentarily, gathering his thoughts. He knew he'd deserved everything Remus had just said; he'd deserved to be yelled at like that; but it didn't stop him feeling as though he'd been scarred all over again, and this scar felt much worse. He suddenly felt tired for the first time in days, and much older than his fifteen years. Taking a deep breath, he turned back to the werewolf, who still looked so angry that it almost hurt Harry to keep eye contact with him… now he understood why Remus hadn't been looking at him when he'd been yelling. "I know how you feel. No, don't say I don't know; you just told me. And I understand. He was all you had. I know that. I know he was your best friend for years. And you probably think that because I only knew him for two years, I can't possibly know the pain you're feeling. But two years is more than enough to become close to someone, Remus. You hardly need any time at all, really…" His voice broke as haunting memories came to him of walking through the tunnel from the Shrieking Shack with Sirius beside him, the joy he'd felt when Sirius had suggested the Harry could live with him… he was going to live with his godfather, his father's best friend… even then, before he'd even really known him, he had loved Sirius. Loved… yes, that was it. That was what he hadn't been able to place before. Turning his attention back to Remus, he continued. "I wanted him to kill me, Remus. You weren't there, but when Voldemort was-possessing me, in the lobby… I wanted Dumbledore to kill me. I still wish he had. At least I would've gotten to see him again…" His voice broke, but he continued. "I was close to Sirius. I loved him, Remus. And I know I wasn't the only one, but neither were you. You've told me how you feel; d'you want to know how I feel?" He paused to steady himself; the tears were back again. "I feel like my heart's been ripped out—it's just… not there anymore. Like all that's left where it used to be is this huge black hole… just an empty void." He was sobbing now, finding it hard to get out the words. "And… I'm sorry. All of this is my fault, and I'm so sorry…" he fell back in the chair, out of breath and things to say, and covered his face with his hands, not caring what happened anymore.

Remus' eyes did not leave Harry face as he listened, knowing what the boy was saying was true. Sirius had been the one connection and closest thing to family for Harry. The night in the Shrieking Shack had also been a great turning point for the werewolf: he had finally learned of Sirius' innocence and had gotten, after many years of grief and piercing pain, his one remaining friend back. His mind wandered back to the evening after he had resigned from Hogwarts, when Sirius had sat in the very chair the werewolf was sitting and both had talked and shared stories of the past, laughing and remembering. At that time, Remus had finally felt at peace after almost twelve years of solitude. It had been that night when Remus had promised himself that he would do everything in his power to not lose Sirius again. But two years had passed and now… now he had lost Sirius forever. The werewolf's body shook involuntarily, his eyes cast to the floor as they stung, unaware of the tears that were now falling freely over his bloodied cheeks. Harry had wanted Dumbledore to kill him. A flash of understanding crossed Remus; he knew the desire to end his life, the feeling of total and absolute loss. He had felt it on that dreadful night when he had learned that all four of his closest friends, his family, the very reason for his existence had all gone: James, Lily and Peter murdered and Sirius to Azkaban. The slender frame shuddered again as he snapped back to reality. With much effort Remus raised himself from the chair, standing by the boy now, sitting wearily by him. He could do little more than whisper as he violently attempted to fight off sobs: "I…I know...Please, Harry, don't blame yourself..." He paused again, a steel note coming to his voice as he continued "Dumbledore misjudged Voldemort…we all misjudged him…and that mistake…is beyond repair." He lay a hand on Harry's shoulder, unsure of how the boy would take this, worried he may take his explanation the wrong way. "I see now…that we both are similar in this…But what I said was selfish, yes. And I do know that I was not the sole one who cared so deeply for Sirius…" Tears ran silently down his face as the name escaped his lips, a sharp pain inside him that seemed to twist at his heart as he continued; "All we can do is…hang on. We will make Voldemort pay."

All Harry could do was stare at the floor the whole time Remus was talking, quietly taking it all in. He made no movement to show that he was listening… but he was, there could be no doubt of that. He hadn't missed a word Remus had said, but at the same time he was oddly detached… he noticed when Lupin became quiet, and took the opportunity to do some thinking of his own. Pictures drifted in and out of his mind's eye, but they weren't the ones he'd been expecting: thinking he was going to live with Sirius; seeing Sirius in Hogsmeade in his fourth year; Christmas in Grimmauld Place—the sound of Sirius' voice singing "God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs" was so clear that it almost made him smile, even laugh… almost. The sound of Lupin's voice jerked him back to reality all too quickly and sharply. Any trace of a smile that the boy's face might have been hinting at a moment before vanished abruptly, and he continued to listen, never taking his now dry eyes off of the floor. The weight Harry had been feeling constantly for the past few days was lifted ever so slightly as the realization hit him that he was not alone after all… He felt like someone finally understood him. He jerked his head around when he felt a light touch on his shoulder, his eyes meeting the werewolf's for a moment… and he was again struck by how much the look in Lupin's eyes reminded him of that in his own recently. The hand on his shoulder felt strong and comforting. He appreciated Remus siding with him on this, it meant a lot to him… yet no matter what anyone said, Harry wouldn't stop blaming himself for what had happened. But neither could he live his life dwelling on the past, he knew that.

"You're right," he eventually murmured. "We are alike. More than I would've thought, actually…" He broke off, his eyes widening slightly as he stared at the werewolf. How could he have been so blind? He'd been so sure he'd lost everyone, the last connection he had to his past, his family… but the answer had been here, in the same house even, and he had been avoiding it, ironically… hadn't Remus been his father's best friend, too? And hadn't he really been a part of Harry's life for just as long as Sirius had? Of course, no one could ever replace Sirius, no one could ever fill that hole, never… but Harry was somewhat comforted by the thought, and smiled a very small bit as he nodded. "Yes, he will. Voldemort will pay." His smile turned to a grimace as he considered his words. He realized, because of the prophecy, because of what Dumbledore said, because of what he supposed he'd always known or suspected… he realized that if anyone were to make Voldemort pay, it would have to be him. And it wouldn't be easy. He wasn't sure if he wanted that responsibility. But he thought suddenly of Neville's parents, of the other members of the Order who were gone… of his parents… and now Sirius. They were losses that had left irreparable scars on the ones who had loved them.

He looked up to find Remus giving him an odd look, worried about Harry's sudden lapse into silence. Harry forced his smile to reflect a strength he didn't quite feel and spoke again, in a murmur. "Voldemort will pay for everything he's done."


End file.
